All of Her
by AssortedScribbler
Summary: Eddie's musings on his favourite of Rachel's features, and what it possibly could have led to. Reddie.


**Disclaimer:** Do you think I'd be writing fanfiction if I owned this show? Do you think Eva Pope would have left if I owned it? No.

**A/N:** A little present for you as a result of my absence. It's set S4, mid-way through the term and I suppose a little AU – No Melissa. No mention, no Meddie, no nothing except Reddie. Eddie still approached Rachel on the first day but she knocked him back (as in the Series) and since then, they've been working to get their friendship back on track. Google Mound of Venus if necessary.

**Summary:** Eddie's musings on his favourite of Rachel's features, and what it possibly could have led to.

**All Of Her**

It started with her hair. He's noticed at the beginning of the year she'd kept the flicks at the end that teased him senseless last year as he tried not to imagine how those feathered ends would feel against his chest, look splayed across his pillow. They still had the same effect now, despite his determination not to think of her like that until he had her consent. He didn't think anything could be more tempting than those flicks. Until she'd switched to the impossibly neat bob. Suddenly, ignoring the urges he had for her was that much harder.

Every time he saw that precise, curled-under style, he simply could not stop himself imagining pushing his hands through it, roughening it, pushing it back from her beautiful face and revelling in the feel of those silken strands snagging on his rougher skin. He wanted to undo her ruler straight parting and see the slight bend become sweat caused ringlets. When she walked down a corridor, her hair flayed out behind her ears, a vision he'd seen many times, he'd somehow managed to capture that image and in his dreams, transferred it to his bed, the curls just beginning around the edge of her forehead.

Next it was her eyes. Last year he'd been witness to a few too many mischievous sparkles in those doe eyes than was entirely helpful to his well-being. Until the fire, that had been the light he'd seen in her eyes when he dreamed of her beneath him. Once the term had begun again, he could no longer imagine that teasing light because it was an altogether more serious Rachel that had returned to Waterloo Road. To his own embarrassment, and begrudging pleasure, a deeper and much more meaningful gaze replaced the teasing sparkle.

This look was one of simultaneous intense concentration and abstract thought. He knew it signified a change in him, as well as Rachel – he no longer wanted something solely fun and light, he wanted all in – all of her. He sometimes swore in his own mind that the look he imagined would be the death of him if he ever actually saw her wear it – he felt sure he'd implode upon so many fantasies coming true. Her copper mixed with caramel orbs turned molten, swirling with emotions and reflecting the lust and passion he always felt contained within himself when thinking of her.

The light would be low, but just enough to pick up the flecks of gold in those iris' as well – to remind him that part of her soul still needed treating carefully, that it had been shattered into pieces of the treasure he knew it was. Then her pupils would dilate and remind him she wasn't a porcelain doll either, that they were both adults that in that moment knew what they wanted.

Then there was her mouth. That was one of her features Eddie was fairly sure would kill him or his restraint one day very soon. When she smiled, it was easy to believe the rest of the world smiled with her – who could not follow the luminous example of that sweeping curve? The gentle tip upwards of the edges of her lips just called to him to kiss them and while he had managed to curtail the impulse thus far, he knew that didn't mean he was safe.

However, it wasn't her smile that made him twitch all over. Her smile lit him up like a Christmas tree, but it didn't have quite the same pull that his favourite expression did. Her pout – now that was an expression to die for. The way the luscious expanse of darker skin – which he knew could range from a dark red to a girly shimmering pink – crinkled together into the most adorable yet utterly erotic almond-shaped piece of heaven. And he knew that was what it was, despite not having tasted those lips yet (although fantasy could give him an inkling). His dreams had not stopped there, though.

He'd had visions of that full, wide mouth descending on his skin, on his chest, his stomach, slowly moving lower until he was left gasping, and feeling incredibly unfulfilled as he became aware she was not there at all. The most attractive of actions he had imagined that mouth performing was not, however, something that was intended to directly give him pleasure. Through lowered eyelids, looking up her body from his favourite vantage point, he would see her mouth parted barely half an inch, the lips slack with the most wild little gasps issuing from between them, panting, but full of yearning and need. That was usually his undoing.

Another area he could not help but include in these fantasies was her neck – an elegant column of delicately pale skin over which his mind usually saw the prettiest peach flush slowly descend, from her cheeks to the tops of her breasts. Her neck fascinated him, because he instinctively knew that the skin there would be soft, mildly scented and taste absolutely of her – something he knew he'd never be able to recreate, she was too unique for that.

There was also the question of looking for pressure points, sensitive spots because he'd wanted to hear her moan from the first time of meeting her. He suspected her neck might offer the chance to bring forth that reaction. Certainly, he had also in more primeval moments wanted to mark her there as well, make sure everyone knew he was the lucky sod who got to devote himself wholly to this woman. The way her hair jumped and teased around the tendon in her neck more than once had tempted him into thoughts of brushing it away and tracing the line from behind her ear to her shoulder blade, nipping gently, finding which place brought which reaction. Memorising her every inch as no other had done before.

One of the features he loved most about her were her amazingly curvy hips. So many women these days were terrifically concerned with being a certain dress size; they didn't realise most men like him actually preferred curves, and curves Rachel had. There were times when the urge to extend his hands, curve them lovingly around each side of her and bring her closer was almost insurmountable. He was desperate to make clear just how much he thought of her, how much he had desired her and how much he still needed her.

There was an incalculably high number of times he'd wanted to bring them together, at first just to align her hips in front of his, showing her how incredible they felt that close, then pull them into closer quarters and grind himself into her, making it very clear how crazy she made him. In his mind, she always fitted around him like a glove, they were the other half of each other and in times of heady and unadulterated need, he'd bruised those hips with his fingertips as they pulled each other together. The feel of her hipbones against his palms was a sensation he wished he could feel for the rest of his life. He worshipped those curves.

The last feature that he always remembered, from both real life and dreams, were her fingers. Not a typical focus for such a fantasy, he would admit, but Rachel's hands had a sort of power over him the like of which he'd never known before. He'd imagined, too many times to count, holding her hands in front of him and straightening her fingers individually, pressing a hungry kiss to the fingertip and the knuckle, while dusting his touch along the length of each one. Then he'd knead the palm deeply, to help her unwind, and hopefully encourage those wonderful desperate little gasps he loved so much, before biting on the flesh beneath her thumb, her Mound of Venus, and watch with a smirk as she threw her head back.

He didn't quite know how this course of action had occurred to him, except that Rachel usually painted her nails, with a clear glaze if nothing else, and they always seemed to catch the light as she moved them, creating the illusion of liquid, which Eddie then remembered later as in his mind, sweat glistened all over their bodies and somehow seducing her through applied pressure to her hands had appeared and appealed to him.

For what seemed like far too long a time, these fantasies had been building, born from the beginnings of an attraction to what he now knew was a deep-seated desire and affection. He loved her and he wanted her. He just didn't know what to do about it. They were half way through the term after Rachel's return, and after that first night, when he'd made his first stumbling attempt at breaching the gulf between his mind and reality, they hadn't spoken about it since. Rachel and he had remained good friends and had even managed to spend a few evenings at the pub together. Rebuilding the friendship they both needed, and had somehow lost at the beginning of term.

Yet Eddie now felt certain friendship with Rachel, while wonderful and extremely welcome, was not and would never be enough. He knew he was privileged to have even that, to many at Waterloo Road Rachel Mason remained an authority figure and guiding light but not really human, while he'd seen her laugh, panic, worry, all of the emotions she so carefully either concealed or combed down when in company and he now more than anything wanted to see her in the throws of ecstasy. Which is how he found himself in his current situation.

He was in a meeting after school with all the senior management, Kim, Heads of Department, etc. He was also bored stiff. He'd only been required to give a short talk at the beginning, regarding an idea he had to put forward about including the under-achievers in class to a greater degree, before sitting back and letting Rachel lead the rest of the meeting. She was in her element, excited and enthusiastic and to a large degree the staff were responding. Steph was trying desperately to look unimpressed and he was pretty sure Grantley had nodded off about ten minutes in, but the others were enthralled in spite of themselves.

Eddie had no idea what she'd been saying for the last half an hour.

After the five minutes settling down period, when everyone stopped fidgeting and began to listen, Eddie had unconsciously filtered out the talk and concentrated purely on Rachel. He was sat to her right, slightly around the corner so he had a perfect view of her profile and the expressions her hands made, which is how he'd found himself making a mental list of his favourite focal points and reasons why. The only trouble was of course the side effects of such thoughts and he remembered now why he was usually saved those musings for when he was alone.

He dared not fidget, it would attract attention, and the more perceptive among those present might work out the reason for his sudden discomfort, including Rachel and possibly Steph; the idea of either was highly disconcerting. After what he now realised had probably been a whole half an hour staring avidly at Rachel, openly admiring her in an obvious way he usually tried to avoid when in company, he finally forcibly dragged his gaze from the subject of his thoughts and fantasies, and swept the room around him. To his relief, virtually everyone else was looking at Rachel as well, and he sincerely hoped he had not made it as obvious as he feared just what direction his thoughts had taken.

His eyes slid from one teacher to another, no sign any of them were paying him any notice at all and he felt hope and relief swell as he realised he hadn't been caught. Until his eyes landed on Kim. She was looking at him directly with a barely concealed smirk fighting its way across her face. Eddie dipped his eyebrows quickly, asking "What?" without saying anything. Kim flicked her eyes at Rachel then faked a moon-faced expression before fully smirking at him.

Eddie considered faking incomprehension, hopefully putting her off but he disliked playing the fool so settled for a thunderous glare instead. It only made her smirk grow, and Eddie could practically hear her saying, "You've got it baaaaaaaad." He wished he could say she was wrong. It took him a moment after that to realise that it was quiet when it shouldn't have been, and looked around to Rachel, surprised to find she was looking at him, a displeased slant to the line of her delectable mouth.

"Have you finished?" She asked, a little pointedly, looking between Eddie and Kim, and the rest of the staff were now trying not to laugh as the two guilty senior management flushed and shifted uncomfortably under the Headmistress' cold look. Both made sure they paid close attention to the rest of the meeting and determinedly did not make eye contact again. Eddie did find there was one positive thing that came from the incident – every so often, Rachel directed her eyes into his, to check she had his attention no doubt, but it was a definite plus – he managed to send an apologetic smile her way, and she seemed to accept it; he even managed to elicit a small smile back.

.~*~. .~*~. .~*~. .~*~.

"Right, I think that's everything. Any notices? Great. See you all next week." Rachel brought the meeting to a close and a low sigh of relief followed before it was drowned by the rustle of clothing, papers and scraping of chairs as the rest of the staff dispersed and began to filter out of the room, a little chatter following them. Eddie rose as well but didn't move in the same direction, his eyes firmly resting again on the woman who always captivated his mind.

"Will you be able to do the minutes for that meeting," she began, tone careful and professional, until the door clicked shut behind the last person leaving and it suddenly dropped to practically icy, "or were you too busy making eyes at Kim to listen to most of it?" The words lashed at him, more effective than a whip, and he winced as the sting struck him straight in the chest. How could she think he could ever look at another woman the way he looked at her? Did she really think that low of him? How could she not see how deeply he was consumed by her?

"I wasn't making eyes at Kim." He replied, perhaps a little sharply, gathering up his briefcase and putting it on the table, lifting his eyes to hers.

"Really?" She queried, a half-hearted attempt to sound light and uncaring which quickly dissolved into bitter. "That's what it looked like." She muttered the accusation, but no matter how quietly she said it, Eddie could still detect, with a wild leap of joy, the faintest trace of jealousy. And suddenly, he felt every weight he carried, every worry, every niggle of doubt, evaporate. If she was jealous, then it meant, surely, that he had been right and she did feel something for him. And perhaps now she might be ready to admit it.

"I was glaring at her." He said, sounding a little annoyed to cover the wonderful surge of happiness flying through him.

"Oh, and what were you 'glaring' at her for?" Rachel asked coldly, slipping her folders into her own bag delicately and avoiding looking at him, no doubt in a hope to disguise her motivation for asking those questions.

"Because she'd caught me staring. At you. Just like I had been for virtually the whole meeting."

The whole room froze. For a second, neither of them could move, Eddie because he was waiting for some sort of reaction from her, and Rachel because she was quite clearly trying to find the correct reaction to allow a voice. He'd seen, in the second before her control caught up, a flash of the same happiness he'd felt upon hearing her jealousy, but it had been wiped away sharply and her expression was for the moment unreadable.

"Rachel." Eddie whispered and her eyelids fluttered, her mouth curving slightly and he took that as an encouraging sign. Gingerly, he stepped away from the table they'd been sat around and moved around it, towards her. For a second, she flickered her eyes up to him, a ghost of her true smile capturing his attention until she blinked and then blanched, her old strength returning.

"Eddie, stop." He paused his movements, knowing she would only run again if he pushed just now. "I thought we'd discussed this." At least that was a start – she was acknowledging there was something to talk about.

"No we didn't. You ran off before we could do that." He replied, months of fighting himself and her finally being filtered into an edge of impatience.

"There wasn't anything more to say." Rachel snapped, obviously unimpressed with his choice of words.

"There was plenty more to say!" Eddie exclaimed, moving towards her again, his stubbornness rising as a match for hers. Rachel threw him a dark look and snapped her briefcase shut, picking it up from the table and turning towards the door.

"Not now, Eddie." She said coldly, beginning to stride in the direction of her escape.

"Don't you dare." He growled, his voice full of anger and she paused, frowning back at him. "Don't you dare dismiss me like a school problem you just don't want to deal with. This is important, to both of us, and don't bother contradicting me. That meeting we've just had – I spent the whole thing thinking of you. You drive me absolutely stir crazy, I can't stop my thoughts tracking back to you every spare moment I have and you want to just wave a hand and say "Not now"? Aren't we worth anything more to you than that?" Eddie cried out, shoving his bag down on the table in a fit of pique.

Rachel's eyes flashed briefly and he thought she was about to reply with a similar sharpness but then her expression softened and she turned back to him, shifting her briefcase in her hand as she swept some hair behind her right ear.

"Of course you mean more than that Eddie. I value your friendship more than any other. But anything more than that is just not possible right now." She spoke determinedly, calmly, but she wasn't looking at him. Her eyes were fixed on the floor in front of her, making sure her feelings remained tightly bound inside of her.

"I didn't say me. I said us. I'm grateful every day for us still being friends, but as much as I try not to admit it, friendship isn't enough. What I feel for you surpassed platonic a long time ago and it gets harder to ignore that every day." Eddie's words were slightly hoarse from the emotion behind them and Rachel almost flinched on hearing them. "I need you." He said, his voice raw as he edged towards her again. She looked away, pressing her lips together, trying to ignore his plea. "I love you." He breathed at last.

Rachel's eyes fluttered closed, a whisper of a smile gathering around her mouth as she heard his declaration for the first time. He watched as a light seemed to glow from inside her, the tentative smile growing as the words echoed around them. Eddie took a swig of his courage and continued his path towards her, hesitating but drawn nonetheless, eager to finally bridge the gap but terrified she'd turn and run. Slowly, he reached her and at last enclosed his hands around her upper arms.

"You have no idea that just being around you is torture. Your hair, your neck, your eyes, your mouth, your hips, your fingers, all of you – it's like a seduction you're completely unaware of. The littlest thing draws me in. Everyone can see what you do to me, except you. I have needed you for so long now I should be used to it, should be able to control it, but I'm not and I can't. And I don't want to." He spoke the last sentence gently and at the last moment he got a reaction. She opened her eyes and faced her head towards him, looking at his chest, her whole expression tremulous and quivering.

"You want me?" She asked, a little shaky, and Eddie nodded without a moment of hesitation.

"I love you, first and foremost, but most definitely I want you." He assured her, bringing her closer, hope fanned by the fluttering ragged breath emitting gently from her parted lips.

"How? Why?" She questioned, still looking at his chest, seemingly mystified by his desire for her. Eddie smiled and leant forward to whisper in a low voice across her ear,

"I have a list, if you're interested." He felt a chuckle shake through her frame and was delighted when, as he leant back, her gaze finally lifted to his.

"A list?" She smiled, speaking barely above a murmur.

"You've given me a lot of time to think. All those meeting were productive in some ways." He grinned and she shook her head, her smile once more curling her mouth into that gorgeous smile he loved. And he realised he no longer had to stop himself from acting on the impulse that always seized him when she smiled. Gently, he tipped his upper body forward, watching her for any sign she wasn't ready, before brushing a tiny butterfly kiss to the edge of her mouth, just where it began to curl upwards. As he moved away, he heard a low thud and realised it was her bag that had fallen to the floor but his thought process was interrupted when her eyes flickered open again and his heart almost stopped.

It was _that_ look. The one he'd been dreaming of since her return. Smouldering, alive, but with the flash of humanity he loved was such a big part of her. Control disintegrated. Inhibitions forgotten. Thought centred on the one he always was overcome by. That night, he whispered every thought, conquered every one of her doubts, and played out each one of his dreams. He was also reminded that no matter how wonderful dreams seem, reality is always more fulfilling.

And as he lay with Rachel in his arms, her head on his chest, her thoroughly mussed hair feathered across his skin, one hand resting against her hipbone, Eddie could not imagine a more perfect beginning.


End file.
